


Routine

by tigs



Series: Puppy!verse [1]
Category: Supernatural (RPS)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Puppy!verse, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-12
Updated: 2007-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigs/pseuds/tigs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I might be late, man, so just go on in, okay?" Jared had said. "Make yourself at home."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine

"I might be late, man, so just go on in, okay?" Jared had said. "Make yourself at home." Then he'd laughed, his smile wide, teasing. "Like you wouldn't anyway…" And for that, Jensen had been forced to flip him off.

But that was how Jensen found himself standing on Jared's front stoop, turning the key in the lock, jiggling it just a bit--as you had to, because the thing was pretty ancient and pretty much crap--so he could, you know, actually open the door. But then the key was moving and the door was opening, and Jensen was closing it even more quickly as he stepped inside and found himself surrounded by a sea of dogs.

So, yes, there were only two of them, but Sadie and Harley didn't believe in personal space, and were also maybe part sheepdog, the way they were circling him, rubbing up against his knees, pushing at him until he actually got the hint and knelt down to say hello.

The problem with having two dogs, Jensen had decided a long time ago--or maybe the problem with *Jared's* two dogs--was that there were never enough hands to go around. Like, say, he could give Sadie the ear-scratching she was so desperately asking for, but that didn't leave him with any way to defend himself against Harley's snuffling nose moving on it's quest from Jensen's ear down to his pockets (both jacket and pants) in case he'd hidden hamburgers or chew toys or possibly milkbones anywhere on his person. Or, if he transferred his attention to Harley, that left the back of his hand open to Sadie's very wet tongue.

So yeah, two hands were not enough. Four might have been. Six would have been better.

But then the greeting was out of the way and the dogs let him stand up again, let him open the door again to grab his bag off of the front steps, and then they were leading him through Jared's house, moving slowly, keeping step with him, tails thwapping against his knees with enough force that he was pretty sure he was going to have bruises tomorrow.

The dogs knew the routine by now, though: front door, then upstairs to Jared's bedroom so that Jensen could drop his bag off.

As soon as they were in the room, Sadie jumped up on the bed and cocked her ears in a questioning manner, as if asking, *Naptime? Now? Yes, yes. Now?* and Harley picked up a knotted tug-toy from somewhere and bumped his nose at Jensen's hand until he actually grabbed one end of it. Once he did, though, Harley bared his teeth, growled and dropped his weight onto the floor before scrabbling backwards, actually pulling Jensen a step towards him before Jensen could catch his balance. After that, Jensen dropped down to the floor, too, and pulled back just as hard. And, well, while he wouldn't admit to it, well, ever, he might have growled back. Just a little. On the bed, Sadie started barking, happy sounds, looking back and forth between them, as if she was trying to figure out which of them to root for: her canine companion, or the one who could actually reach the treats Jared kept up in his kitchen cupboards.

Again Harley pulled on the toy, strongly enough that when Jensen let go he fell down, but when he scrambled to his feet again, he was wagging, barking joyfully, and then Sadie was joining in.

"All right, all right," Jensen said. "Come on, calm down, unless you want that cranky neighbor of yours calling in a noise complaint to the cops. Because yeah, wouldn't that be a fun one to try to explain to Jared. 'Yeah, man, I'm interrupting your shoot so you can explain to the nice policemen at your door that I'm really not trespassing, I promise.'"

Sadie barked once more, but Harley had picked up his toy again and was currently backing away from Jensen, as if he could entice Jensen into chasing him. Indeed, when Jensen took a step towards the door, Harley took off running, nails skittering across Jared's hardwood floors, then back down the stairs. Jensen was almost out the door when Sadie jumped off of the bed and hurried to catch up, struggling to squeeze through the doorway just as he did.

She knew the next part of the routine as well: kitchen, so Jensen could check their food bowls, because one time--one time--Jared had asked him to make sure his babies got their dinner, and once had been enough. Now Jensen, too, was a giver of food, and the fact that he was there must mean it was time to eat. And possibly for treats, because he hadn't been there earlier, when Jared had given them their morning milkbones (as Jensen knew he always did) so Jensen must not know they'd had them.

Harley apparently knew the routine too, because he was already nosing his bowl around the kitchen when Jensen got there, whining pitifully, so Jensen opened the closet that Jared kept the food in and filled their bowls up. He watched them for a minute, big tongues gulping down the food, bowls already sliding across the floor, before he continued on with his routine: living room, couch, TV. Because that was about as 'home-like' as he felt comfortable making himself without Jared being there to encourage it.

Without Jared being there to kick Jensen's shoes underneath the couch in the middle of the inevitable post-Jensen-kicking-Jared's-ass at the video game of the night wrestling match.

Without Jared being there to pull Jensen into his arms, making Jensen not be able to remember the next day where he'd left whatever book or magazine or whatever it was he'd been reading just a moment before.

Without Jared being there to leave Jensen's sweatshirt (and possibly his belt, too) in a crumpled heap on the floor of whatever room they happened to be in, saying, 'yeah, not really interested in neat and tidy right now, man.'

Just… without Jared being there.

Yeah.

So Jensen went into the living room, sat down on Jared's couch, and turned on the TV. It was that crap hour right after dinner where nothing was on unless you wanted to watch *Entertainment Tonight* or *Wheel of Fortune* or *Law &amp; Order* reruns, but with 250 channels, Jensen thought he should be able to find something. Something. Any channel now. Really.

But then the dogs were clicking into the room, slowly now, licking their lips, looking at him and Jensen knew this part of the routine too, so he lay down on the couch. It was a big piece of furniture, long and deep, and so there was room, if he bent his knees a little, for Harley to curl up at the end, and Sadie to curl up in front of him.

Harley got up first, turning in a circle three times before finally flopping down with his paw resting over Jensen's ankle, and then it was Sadie's turn. She got up more carefully, then curled up, pressing herself against Jensen's chest, her front paws and her head hanging over the edge.

The first time she'd tried that with Jensen, he'd told her to get down, but she'd been persistent, and he'd spent enough time with Jared over the last few years--in hotel rooms in Vancouver and in the house here in LA--to be used to it. To say, yeah, okay, when she looked up at him asking, begging.

To fall asleep on the couch like that, *Jeopardy* playing in the background, and only realize that he had fallen asleep when he woke up to the sound of a key jiggling in the front door, to the feel of Harley leaping off of the couch (and completely crushing Jensen's ankle in his quest to go greet Jared *nownownow*).

He felt Sadie lift her head, looking in the direction of the door, and she gave a soft sort of *whuph* of a bark, before she settled back down again, and that was the reason that Jensen stayed where he was, too. Because he was warm and comfortable and it wasn't like Jared didn't know the routine, too.

He even let his eyes drift shut again, only to open them again when Sadie's tail started thumping against his leg, and there Jared was, standing just inside the living room door, his grin wider and brighter than Jensen thought it should be after a full day of filming.

"Hey," Jared said softly, walking across the room, in front of the TV with--well, Jensen had no clue what was on right now, actually--and then he didn't care, because Jared was crouching down in front of the couch, reaching out a hand to scratch Sadie's ears, then to give Jensen's shoulder a squeeze.

"Hey," Jensen said.

"So I see you made yourself at home," Jared said, and Jensen said, "Yeah, well. I tried."

Then Jared was shooing Sadie off the couch and leaning in, slowly, nose bumping at Jensen's before their lips finally touched, parting, and Jensen thought, Home, yeah. Home.

End.


End file.
